A DiNozzo Family Tradition
by Lyn1410G
Summary: Tradition : A mode of thought or behaviour followed continuously from generation to generation. What makes us cling to traditions, both happy and the bittersweet? Tony as a child, teen, young man and adult as he upholds more than one tradition.
1. Chapter 1

**"A DiNozzo Family Tradition"**

Chapter 1.

**Disclaimer:** They're not mine and remain the property of CBS, Bellisario and co.

**Author's Note:** I wrote this some time ago, prompted by the episode Silent Night where Tony excitedly plays the film "A Wonderful Life" for the team in MTAC. You know how I love to dwell on his childhood and invent possible scenarios that may explain some of his behaviour. I couldn't resist this one and intend to extend it to approximately 5-6 chapters, all set years apart. Somewhat angsty I'm afraid. Hope you like it.

**Christ****mas Eve, 1978**

The howling wind outside rattled the glass in the windows as swirls of snow danced across the lawn, creating drifts against the side of the house and burying the long winding drive.

Inside the big house, a small boy sat at the end of a long dining table, his mother sat opposite, as they waited silently for his father to join them for the meal. The table was carefully festooned with brightly coloured napkins, crackers and holly with candles flickering in the centre. It was Tony's seventh Christmas and his mother had excitedly helped their housekeeper, Sofia, prepare a special family dinner.

Every few minutes, his mother's eyes would stray to the clock on the wall and then she would paste that overbright smile on her beautiful face, turn to him and say, "Your father will be here shortly, Anthony, he promised."

Dutifully, Tony would smile back and nod his little head before turning his eyes back toward the window and the empty drive.

Most nights of course, his father _didn't_ come and mother and son would eat their meal together, Tony chattering away incessantly as Gabriella only half listened, a distracted smile on her beautiful face.

Sofia appeared in the doorway and with a quick glance at the small hungry child sitting impatiently at the table, asked if she could begin to serve the meal. His mother's belief that her husband would soon join them was beginning to wane and her voice was unusually sharp as she instructed the housekeeper to keep the meal warm a little longer.

They continued to wait in silence, Gabriella positively vibrating from pent up tension as she attempted to smile serenely and appear calm.

The sound of the telephone ringing in the den had her surging to her feet and she ran quickly to answer the call. When she returned a few moments later the over-bright smile on her face, told him that his father would not be home to celebrate as planned.

Without looking at the elderly housekeeper hovering nearby, Gabriella said quietly. "You can serve the meal now, Sofia. Mr. DiNozzo will not be joining us, after all."

"But Mamma, what about the movie?" Tony asked in a small uncertain voice. "We always watch the movie, he promised he'd be home."

Gabriella reached an unsteady hand and refilled her wine glass, "It's a film, Anthony, not a movie and I know he promised but your Daddy's a very busy man," the ever present smile did not reach her eyes. "We can watch together, yes? We will finish our meal and go into the study and hopefully your father will be home soon."

"But you said it was tradition, Mamma," he continued. "No matter where we are or what we are doing."

"…and we will uphold the tradition, Anthony, but for this year, it will be just you and me."

Tony listened to his mother's words but his disappointment was plain to see, his shoulders slumped and his lower lip trembled as he fought to control the tears.

"Anthony, what do I always say?"

"Always smile, Mamma," the small voice recited. "Never…let…anyone see…your pain,"

"That's right, piccolo mio, pain is personal, it's private," his mother advised. "The more it hurts, the brighter your smile should be."

Tony nodded, forcing his lips to obey as he dutifully squeezed out his best impression of a smile. Satisfied, his mother lifted her fork and began to eat and after a moment's hesitation, Tony turned his attention to his meal.

When they were finished their meal, they moved into the study and after selecting his favourite Christmas film from the shelf, Tony slipped the cassette into the player. He pushed the play button and climbing up beside his mother, settled back into the deep cushions of the couch.

On the screen an enchanted storybook opened and with every turn of the page, a wintry scene unfolded, the film's credits framed on every page. A snow covered sign saying "Welcome to Bedford Falls" signaled the familiar opening scene and slowly, Tony felt the tension leave his little body and he began to relax, already lost in the magical world.

Beside him –unnoticed- his mother turned her head and stared out the window into the wintry night where swirls of snow dance across the lawn and piled high against the side of the house.

"It's a Wonderful Life, Mamma," Tony chimed in an excited voice.

Gabriella smiled absently and squeezed his little hand. "Yes, _piccolo mio_, it's a wonderful life,"

000---000---000


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Disclaimer:** as per chapter 1.

**Rhode Island 1985**

The uniformed chauffer collected the boy's suitcases and with eyes lowered made his way out into the hall and toward the dormitory exit.

"Are you sure you won't change your mind, Tony?" the tall, skinny boy standing in the doorway asked one more time. "I'm quite certain that mother wouldn't mind an extra guest for Christmas dinner."

Tony looked up from where he sat on the bed and smiled brightly at his departing room-mate, "Thanks Pete, I appreciate the offer but my father said he'll be here before 6 o'clock to collect me. We're spending Christmas together this year. My father's wife, Donatella, is spending the holidays with her family in Paris so it will be just the two of us."

"Well, if you're sure," Peter replied hesitantly. "It's just that at Thanksgiving…"

"I know," Tony cut in. "He couldn't make it as promised but he had good reason. The business doesn't run itself, you know. You go and wish your family a Merry Christmas from me," Tony stood and shook his friend's hand and gave him a gentle push toward the door.

After one last, uncertain look, Peter Lowman jnr turned and followed the chauffer to the limousine waiting on the drive. Tony wandered across to the window and looked down at the scene below. A light dusting of snow had fallen overnight covering everything in sight and lending an eerie hush, like a silent movie, to the activity in the school grounds.

Along the long winding drive sat, at the very least, a dozen limousines and town cars, their liveried chauffers busy loading suitcases and brightly wrapped gifts into the trunks. The last of the boys to leave for the Christmas holiday were saying their goodbyes and waving to friends as they climbed inside and settled in for the long drive home. Those who lived further away and who needed to catch a flight interstate had left earlier that morning.

Tony glanced over to the steps leading down from his dormitory and saw a small group of boys who would stay at the academy over the holiday. Huddled together and wearing the same resigned expression, they were virtually invisible to the departing students as they hurried passed, arms bulging and calling instructions to their drivers.

He wondered with a pang, if he had looked just like them last month.

He remembered that he'd been so excited for weeks beforehand, counting each day off in his head as the Thanksgiving holiday approached. It had been months since he'd seen his father, their only contact a few hastily snatched conversations by telephone. Tony was very excited when his father had finally managed to clear his calendar so that they could spend some time together. Unfortunately, a pressing business matter had called DiNozzo snr to Europe the day before Thanksgiving.

As a self made millionaire and head of a major corporation, his father had always worked long hours and spent weeks at a time away from home as he travelled the world, chairing one executive meeting after another. That's the way it had always been.

However, since Tony's mother's death, his father seemed to have increased his workload to fever pitch.

Checking his watch, Tony turned away from the window and dragged his small suitcase from under the desk, flipping it open on the bed. Normally he wouldn't need to pack too much as he had plenty of clothes in his room at home, but he'd grown a full 4 inches since last summer and he doubted that any of the pants in his old dresser would reach his ankles.

He grinned when he imagined his father's reaction to his recent growth spurt. Though he was only 14, he figured that he was just a few inches shorter than his father now. Coach Turner had been quick to notice and had suggested he join the academy basketball team. He'd been hesitant at first but found that he really enjoyed it and the coach had said he was a natural with good hands and a good head for the game. Before long, Tony was playing point guard and loved being part of the team and calling the plays.

Three weeks ago they'd played in an inter-school tournament against other military schools on the east coast. Tony's team had won the junior division beating the Union Military Academy from Virginia in the final and taking the trophy for the first time in 15 years.

He couldn't wait to tell his father all about it. Maybe he would come watch a few games after the holidays.

That reminded him…he reached into the dresser drawer and retrieved a small flat package wrapped awkwardly in brightly coloured Christmas paper and tied with a small blue bow.

He'd asked the coach to take a photograph of him in his uniform and he'd had it framed, he figured his father might like to keep it on his desk. He stowed it in his suitcase and after checking that he hadn't forgotten anything, snapped the lid shut and placed the suitcase on the floor.

A light tap on the door drew his attention and he opened it to find that he was wanted on the telephone downstairs. He hurried down to the dorm supervisor's office and lifted the receiver tentatively.

"Hello?"

"Anthony? Is that you, boy?" his father's strong baritone voice came across the line and Tony's heart missed a beat. What was wrong? Why was he calling?

"Yes, Sir it's me, why are you calling? I thought you'd be almost here by now," Tony replied in a small voice.

He heard his father sigh deeply on the other end and closed his eyes in anticipation of what was to come.

"Anthony, something's happened…your step mother and I, well, things just haven't worked out between us and we've decided to separate".

"Separate? But I thought you were happy this time, are you sure that…"

"Yes, it's for the best. Crazy woman was just never satisfied, always making demands, expecting me to put her first all the time, completely irrational really. You listen to me, Anthony, women are fine for helping a man to relax but marry them and they turn into your worst nightmare. Love them and leave them, that'll save you a whole lot of trouble."

"But why are you calling, you are still coming to get me? I've just finished packing and..."

"No, I'm sorry, Anthony but it's just not possible at the moment. Donatella is at the house collecting her things and frankly I could do without her histrionics. Best for all concerned to let the lawyers handle things."

"But Father, you promised," Tony argued, his voice rising in his resentment.

"Life is full of disappointments, Anthony," his father snapped angrily. "The sooner you realise that the better, be a man and deal with it".

There was silence for a moment as Tony absorbed the rebuke.

"Where are you? I don't mind going somewhere else this year. We don't have to have Christmas at the house," Tony suggested quickly.

"I flew down to the chalet at Aspen, Anthony. Needed some fresh mountain air to clear my head, have some alone time..." his father placed one hand over the mouthpiece and Tony heard a muted conversation in the background followed by a feminine laugh.

"Who's there with you?" he asked suspiciously.

"No-one, I have the television on in the background. Listen, son, I have to go. I have an important conference call due in a few minutes".

"But I have so much to tell you," Tony complained. "I joined the academy basketball team last semester and…"

"Basketball? Don't be wasting your time with rubbish like that, Anthony. It only detracts from your studies and I expect to see a major improvement this year."

"But Coach Turner says I'm good, Sir. Really good. He says that I could have a real future, maybe get a college scholarship and…"

"Scholarship? What on earth do you need a scholarship for, boy? No, you forget this basketball nonsense and concentrate on improving your grades".

They spoke for another couple of minutes -Tony answering politely - his earlier enthusiasm gone as his father promised to catch up with him at spring break. Replacing the phone on it's cradle, he turned and trudged slowly back up the stairs and along the corridor to his room.

Once inside he opened the suitcase and tipped the contents out onto his bed. Spying the gift, he picked it up, turning it once or twice in his hands as he fought to control the emotions that warred inside of him. He needed to get out of here, get as far away as possible. His mind made up, he headed for the door, dropping the gift into the wastepaper basket as he left the room.

An hour later, cold and wet from his run in the academy grounds, he made his way back into the dormitory and jogged upstairs to shower and change into something warm. His stomach rumbling reminded him that he'd missed dinner but maybe he could find some leftovers downstairs that would hold him until breakfast time.

As he reached the lower floor he heard voices and laughter coming from a room along the corridor and he stopped a moment to listen. It had to be the boys he'd seen earlier, the ones who were spending the holiday at school.

Just then, the door swung open and one of the boys poked his head out and –spotting Tony standing on the landing - called for him to join them in watching a movie.

Tony hesitated. He didn't think he was ready to face their questions. How would he answer them when they asked him why he was still at school? He started to make his excuses then paused…why would they need to question him anyway? Weren't they all there for the same reason?

He straightened his spine, pasted a bright smile on his face and agreed.

As he entered, the other boys greeted him cheerily and shuffled along the couch to make room as he sat down on the end cushion. One of the boys passed along a bowl of crisps and Tony gratefully took a handful. The boy nearest the television grabbed the remote and, after checking that all were settled and ready, started the video.

On the screen a storybook opened and with every turn of the page, a wintry scene surrounded the film's credits. A snow covered sign saying "Welcome to Bedford Falls" signaled the familiar opening scene….

Tony felt his stomach muscles contract as he recognised the film and clenched his teeth together, fighting hard to school his features and appear relaxed. Turning his head, he stared out the window into the wintry night where swirls of snow danced across the lawn and piled high against the side of the building.

A small distracted smile twisted the corners of his mouth. It's a wonderful life, he whispered softly.

**000---000---000**

**Thanks for reading and leaving a review. Your comments are always appreciated. Lyn**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** as per chapter 1.

**A/N:** **Warning...**This chapter deals with a rather tragic domestic violence situation which may be upsetting to some readers. (apologies for the delay in posting this 3rd chapter...I really struggled with this one)

**Set in Peoria, Illinois. Christmas Eve 1996**

Tony sat in the squad car, his hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel as he worked at steadying his breathing. Despite the freezing temperatures outside, a fine sweat dampened his forehead and hands. He shivered involuntarily and peered through the frosted windshield. Snow had started falling before he'd come on duty at midday and the ploughs had been working feverishly to clear the roads.

A loud crackle from his police radio cut through his thoughts and turning his head, he stared at the illuminated emergency room sign.

It was now or never. Setting his jaw, he climbed out of the car before he could change his mind and - shoulders hunched against the chill of the wind - jogged to the automatic doors and entered the hospital building.

Immediately the antiseptic smell assailed his nostrils and he felt himself start to gag as acid bile rose in his throat. He stopped abruptly and closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe slowly and deeply through his mouth until he had regained control.

Gradually, he felt his insides relax and he became aware of the noises surrounding him. The waiting room was filled to overflowing. A mother with a sick baby was pleading with a triage nurse to be seen first and a grizzled old man sat in the corner, ranting loudly to no one in particular. A television was suspended from the ceiling, the network's coverage of the local Christmas carols holding the attention of a half dozen patients, their faces blank as they stared at the small screen.

Silver tinsel had been hung haphazardly along the windows, someone's attempt to bring a little Christmas cheer to the sick and injured who were spending such a miserable Christmas Eve.

Tony approached the clerk at the desk - a pair of reindeer antlers perched ridiculously on her head - and after showing his ID, was directed to the paediatric wing on the third floor.

The elevator doors sprang open on the required floor and he made his way along to the main desk where a rather severe looking nurse looked up, a brow raised enquiringly at him.

"I'm Officer DiNozzo, Peoria PD," Tony forced a strained smile. "I'm looking for Andrew Finney, I believe he was brought in here earlier today. He had a knife wound to the neck".

"Thirteen year old boy?" the nurse asked in a no-nonsense voice.

"Yes, ma'am", he replied.

"He had surgery to repair the damage and came onto the ward around 8.30. He's sleeping now" she told him, a slight note of disapproval in her voice.

"Can I see him? I'll be careful not to disturb him," Tony promised.

The nurse hesitated a moment and he thought she would refuse but she pressed her lips together and relented.

"Room 308. Down the corridor, fourth door on the right", she directed and turned back to her notes, sneaking an appreciative look over her glasses at his uniform clad behind as he walked away.

On reaching the door to Andrew's room he could hear the incessant beeping of the monitor that sat by his bed and he caught his lower lip between his teeth.

His eyes strayed immediately to the small boy lying palely against the crisp sheets. Save for the blue shadows around his eyes he was deathly white, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed was the only sign that he was alive. A large bandage covered his throat and a catheter was inserted in his arm, the constant drip of precious fluids helping to replace the blood that he'd lost at the hands of his own father.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut as the image of Andrew's blood, scarlet as it dripped down his white T-shirt, came rushing back into his mind.

_The woman's body lay twisted on the polished floor, her eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling, her long hair matted in the pool of blood that seeped from the slash across her throat._

_Across the room, her ex-husband, Joseph Finney, stood clutching the knife that he'd used to kill her, his other arm wrapped around the throat of Andrew, his thirteen year old son. Finney's eyes held a hopeless desperation as they swivelled back and forth between his dead ex-wife and the cop who stood before him, his service pistol aimed at his head._

A small movement to his right brought Tony back to the present, his hand moving instinctively to the gun on his hip as he swung around to see a woman in her mid forties sitting quietly on the chair in the corner. The book that she'd been reading while the boy slept lay open on her lap.

"Can I help you, Officer?"

Tony blinked and shook off the memory, "You must be the social worker?"

"Yes. My name is Joan Edwards, I've been assigned Andrew's case", the woman looked at the boy still sleeping soundly. "Such a terrible business".

"Yes", Tony agreed softly. "Um…I was the Officer on the scene…was there when…" he hesitated. "I thought I'd stop by and see how he was doing".

"That's very kind of you, Officer…"

"DiNozzo. Anthony DiNozzo. Were you able to find any of Andrew's family?"

"No. I'm sorry but there's no-one," Joan Edwards replied sadly. "It appears that neither of Andrew's parents had any siblings. His grandparents died some years ago".

Tony absorbed this information with a grimace and felt something cold twist in his gut.

"I shouldn't ask but…I wonder if you would sit with Andrew while I take a short break, grab a coffee and something to eat?" the social worker asked.

Tony hesitated; he'd only intended to see with his own eyes that the boy was ok. He really didn't want to get any more involved than he already was. He looked at the boy still sleeping soundly, he seemed to be pretty out of it.

"Um, sure, I'm off duty now so… take your time".

"Thank you Officer DiNozzo. I'd like to call my children before they go to bed," she explained quietly. "Cases like this," she looked worriedly at Andrew "…they make you want to hold your own kids and never let them go, you know?"

Tony twisted his lips into what he hoped was a convincing smile of understanding and waited for the woman to gather her handbag and leave before he moved further into the room.

He wrinkled his nose and moved to open a window. The antiseptic smell was stronger than ever here.

He pulled the chair closer to the window and sat down, looking around him at the greying walls. The room was sparsely furnished with only a stainless steel locker to store clothes and personal possessions. It was cold and impersonal, the only concession to being in a children's ward was the sticker of an action figure on the wall, its edges curled and tattered where it lifted off the paint.

Turning his head to look at the sleeping boy, he felt his own exhaustion weighing heavily. The events of the day had caused a surge in adrenalin which – now in the aftermath - had left him feeling both physically and mentally shattered. Stretching out his long legs, he hunkered down in the chair, allowing his lids to drift shut. The slow unrelenting beep from the monitors and steady breathing from the child in the bed lulled him into a restless sleep.

_He was waiting in a corridor just outside the emergency room, the wall that he leant against was chilling his back through his thin cotton shirt. All around him were hushed voices; he could tell that they were talking about him, discussing what to do. When he lifted his face to look at them, they would look away quickly or lower their gaze but not before he saw the looks of pity. __He didn't like this place, the antiseptic smell made his stomach hurt and he rubbed it with his hand. Suddenly, the doors to his left swished open and a nurse walked out, pulling rubber gloves from her hands and depositing them into a special rubbish bin. He turned his head to try to see through the gap in the doors. His mother was inside that room. He could just see her feet as she lay on the narrow bed. What was taking so long? Had she fallen asleep?_

The sound of a Velcro cuff separating woke him with a start and he sat bolt upright in the chair, momentarily disoriented.

"I'm sorry to wake you Officer. I just needed to check Andrew's blood pressure and IV," a young nurse was standing by the bed making her examination and adjusting the drip.

"Is everything ok?" she enquired, a concerned look on her face as she eyed him clinically.

Tony scrubbed his hand across his eyes and cleared his throat, "Yes, fine thanks".

"Oh, it's just that you were talking in your sleep, bad dreams?"

"_More like bad memories…"_ he thought.

"Um...yeah something like that," he said with a quick smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and stood up. "How's he doing?" he asked to change the subject.

"Medically speaking the operation went well, but emotionally…" she paused and shrugged her slim shoulders. "Some wounds may never heal".

Tony watched the young woman finish her observations and leave the room. As she departed, a small sound came from the bed and Tony turned his head to see the boy fighting off the effects of the anaesthesia. Andrew's eyelids flickered once or twice and then opened slowly, the expression on his face at first confused but hardening as he focussed on and recognised Tony standing near the window.

"What are you doing here?" he whispered his voice scratchy from the trauma inflicted on his throat.

"I came to see how you were, I was worried…"

The boy turned his head away, staring angrily up at the ceiling.

"Andrew?" Tony tentatively approached the bedside and the boy swallowed, his eyes filling with tears.

Seeing the boy's torment, etched so vividly on his small face was almost Tony's undoing and he ground his teeth together to control the slight wobble of his chin.

"You didn't have to shoot, you didn't have to hurt him," Andrew accused in a small voice.

Tony searched desperately for a way to answer, his words finally coming slowly and carefully.

"I know it's hard to understand…but he gave me no choice, I couldn't let him hurt you anymore".

"He wasn't going to hurt me!" the boy protested.

"Andrew, he did hurt you, buddy…and he hurt your Mom," Tony reminded him gently.

"He may not have been the best father…but he was my Dad…_and you killed him_," the tears now coursed down Andrew's cheeks. "… and now I'm alone! Who's going to look after me now?"

Tony's head snapped back as though he'd been physically struck and he felt the nausea that he'd fought so hard to overcome earlier, rising again in his throat.

"Andrew…" Tony took an involuntary step closer to the bed, one hand outstretched as he tried to comfort the boy.

Raising an impatient fist, the boy dashed away the tears and a strange stillness came over him.

"Andrew?" Tony tried again.

"Please…just go away," Andrew's voice had lost all inflection and he turned away to stare blindly at the wall. Tony could see that he was fighting hard to control his emotions, to be strong and he understood...the boy didn't want anyone, especially Tony, to see his pain.

Without another word, Tony turned and left the room, the boy's words echoing over and over in his head as he escaped along the corridor. Spying a men's room at the end of the corridor he entered and walked straight into a stall, barely closing the door before he emptied his stomach into the bowl. Once the gasping and painful retching stopped, he leaned back against the closed door and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

He knew he'd done the right thing, the only thing possible really. Still, that didn't make it any easier. Andrew's father, Joseph Finney, had snapped. The hostile separation and ensuing custody battle with his wife had pushed him over the edge and he had been determined to take his family down with him into the abyss.

Tony and his partner had arrived on the scene too late to save the boy's mother, but they _could_ save Andrew and when Finney – tormented beyond all reason - had moved the hand that held the knife toward his son, Tony had fired his weapon and ended the stand off.

And now Andrew was alone.

Tony straightened up and left the cubicle, pausing briefly to wash his hands and face at the basin before leaving the bathroom.

He didn't notice the social worker standing talking to the nurse, nor did he hear her call out to him as he continued on passed the elevator to the stairs. On reaching the first floor, he quickly scanned the area, looking for the exit; he had to get out of this place so he could breathe!

The waiting room was _still _filled to overflowing but he didn't notice. The mother with the sick baby had been shown inside to an examination cubicle and the grizzled old man sat in the corner, _still_ ranting loudly to no one in particular. A young couple sat huddled together weeping softly while a small boy sat beside them, oblivious to their pain and staring in fascination at the television.

Seeing the rapt expression on the small face, Tony checked his stride and glanced up to see what had captured the boy's attention so thoroughly. On the small screen a storybook opened and with every turn of the page, a wintry vista surrounded the film's credits and a snow covered sign saying "Welcome to Bedford Falls".

Tony was rooted to the spot; he hadn't been able to watch this film since…

As he stood there, caught up in the magical scene, something Andrew had said came back to him.

"_He may not have been the best father…but he was my Dad"._

He turned around and walked back along the corridor in search of a public phone. Lifting the receiver he dialled the number from memory and waited as it rang. On the fourth ring, the call was answered and Tony swallowed nervously before saying a hesitant,

"Hello…Dad?"

His father's deep baritone announcing that he wasn't available came strongly down the line and Tony realised that it was just the answering machine. He smiled sadly and shook his head.

_What was he thinking? _He replaced the receiver and ended the call without leaving a message.

"Merry Christmas, Dad".

Tugging his collar up to keep the chill off his neck, he headed for the automatic doors and out into the snow.

**000---000---000**

**Thanks so much for reading! A special thanks also to everyone who has reviewed, I really appreciate your feedback. xo Lyn **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4.**

**Disclaimer: as per chapter 1.**

**A/N: Apologies for the delay (again).**

**Washington D.C. Dec. 24****th****, 2004.**

**000---000---000**

McGee huffed noisily and cast an impatient glance towards his senior field agent's incomplete report, still sitting abandoned on his computer monitor. Gibbs had given strict instructions that no-one was leaving this Christmas Eve until _all_ reports were completed, signed and placed on his desk for final sign-off.

Spurred on by the thought of his family waiting for his arrival to begin their regular Christmas Eve celebrations, McGee had hastily but thoroughly typed his report and was in the process of a final check before placing the signed report in Gibbs' in-tray.

He muttered another disparaging remark under his breath as he eyed his senior field agent, leaning casually against the water cooler, speaking quietly with the lovely Special Agent Janelle Cooper. Without even hearing their conversation McGee could tell by the flick of her long dark hair; the way she touched his arm and the pleasant sound of her laughter; that the DiNozzo charm had lured in yet another unsuspecting victim.

Despite the fact that Kate did not particularly like the other woman, Tony's comment earlier that morning, that 'no-one fills a sweater like the lovely Janelle,' had caused Kate to rise to the defence of her "sister-agent." Her objection to Tony's lecherous, frat-boy remark had led to more of their incessant sibling-like bickering.

McGee pursed his lips, while he didn't condone Tony's words, from this angle, he silently agreed with the sentiment.

At the desk opposite, Kate clicked her tongue against her teeth in righteous indignation of Tony's blatant flirting and Janelle's obvious infatuation. It was clear to McGee that she was also in a hurry to leave the office and begin her pre-Christmas festivities.

Deciding to ignore the renowned DiNozzo courting rituals he shifted his attention back to his report and ran a careful eye down his account of the tragic accidental death of a 16-year old boy, just four hours ago.

Ryan Flannery, son of Master Sergeant William Flannery, had invited his friend, Nathan Donaldson, to his house for an afternoon and, in an attempt to appear grown up, had bragged about having held his father's service revolver.

His friend, Nathan, had needed some convincing and so Ryan had removed it from the gun safe his father kept in the garage and found the ammunition stored separately in his nightstand. In his excitement, Nathan had tried to grab the gun from Ryan's hand and the now loaded revolver had fired – inflicting a mortal wound and killing Nathan instantly.

When the team had arrived at the scene, McGee had been surprised that Gibbs had instructed Tony to speak with Ryan Flannery. The kid was obviously in a state of shock and near hysteria and let's face it, Tony was not known for his rapport with children and teens. He'd been even more surprised 30-minutes later, when he and Kate had finished processing the scene and noticed a blanket-clad Ryan give Tony an awkward hug before being helped into an ambulance. Ryan's family doctor had been concerned about delayed shock and so after discussing the situation with Gibbs, an MP guard had been arranged to stay outside the boy's hospital room until the investigation had cleared him of any intent.

McGee's throat threatened to close as he thought of the frailty of life and remembered the utter devastation of both families as they reeled from the senselessness of Nathan's death.

He caught his bottom lip between his teeth and sighed deeply, he couldn't wait to go home to his own family – grateful for their closeness and their love. His brow furrowed as he glanced at his senior field agent, still flashing that infamous smile at the lovely Janelle. He shook his head, wondering how Tony could put the memory of those shattered families behind him so quickly, despite Janelle's obvious…er…attributes.

After what seemed like an eternity, Tony walked back into the bullpen and sat at his desk, a small smug grin on his face as he looked around at his co-workers.

"It's about time, Tony!" Kate exclaimed placing her completed report with McGee's on Gibbs' desk. "You do realise that we're all stuck here until you finish your report? Some of us have plans for Christmas Eve, you know."

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Katie," Tony replied. "I happen to have plans of my own for tonight - big, big plans!"

"Don't tell me, you and Special Agent D-Cup are going to drink yourselves silly then unwrap each other under the tree," Kate said, unable to resist winding her partner up.

"Wait!" Tony said, raising one hand and closing his eyes. "Let me take a picture." A low throaty growl let her know exactly what he thought of that idea.

"Ee-iuw! You're disgusting," Kate said, rolling her eyes but fighting hard to suppress a grin.

"Hey, it was your idea! Anyway, if you must know, Miss Tighty-Twisty Pants, Janelle and I were discussing our plans for New Year's Eve not Christmas Eve," Tony replied. "This very special agent has other very special plans for tonight."

"Yeah, well if you don't finish that report before Gibbs gets back, we'll all be working on Christmas Day – remember what happened last year – we weren't even rostered on and he made us work until 4pm Christmas Day?" Kate said.

"That wasn't my fault!" Tony insisted.

"Tony! You gave Gibbs a lace negligee for Christmas!"

"You didn't!" McGee was aghast.

"He did!" Kate affirmed.

"Hey, I bought that for Lana from Accounting but somehow the tags got mixed up," Tony defended. "Besides, it was supposed to be a Secret Santa - I still don't know how he found out it was from me!"

"This is Gibbs we're talking about, Tony, he knows everything," Kate replied. "And your comment about the colour matching his eyes didn't help the situation."

"Anyway, Probie," Tony continued. "Gibbs went postal and before we knew it he'd turned into the Gibbs that stole Christmas and we all worked the holiday."

"He wouldn't do that again…would he?" McGee groaned. "Not tonight, not Christmas Eve!"

"Want a little cheese with that whine, McGoo?" Tony quipped. "It's not so bad working Christmas, you don't get the nut-bags like you do on Halloween. Nope, working Christmas Eve is more like squatting with your spurs on, Probie."

"What?" McGee blinked in confusion.

"A big pain in the ass."

"What about you, McGee?" Kate asked, ignoring Tony's last comment. "Are you all set for Christmas?"

"Yep, the gifts are in the car, I've packed a bag and as soon as we finish here, I'll be heading straight to my folks house for a typical McGee family Christmas," McGee answered.

"I can see it now," Tony said waving his hands theatrically. "Probie and Sarah stringing popcorn with McMum and McDad - all wearing matching reindeer sweaters, of course. They'll drink eggnog as they decorate the tree while listening to Alvin, Simon and Theodore singing their favourite Christmas tunes. Then, when the tree is done, they'll all settle down in front of the TV in time to watch A Very Brady Christmas."

"Don't listen to him, McGee, he's just jealous," Kate said. "Besides, I think that sounds…adorable."

"Well, despite Tony's active imagination, he's right about one thing – we McGee's do love our family Christmas," McGee said, a boyish excitement in his eyes. "What about you, Kate? Christmas with Abby is going to be a lot different to Christmas in Indiana."

"Absolutely!" Kate enthused. "As you know, our families are travelling this Christmas, but we're going to have a ball, we've been planning this for weeks!"

As if on queue, the elevator doors opened and Abby bounded toward the bullpen.

"Kate, are you ready? I've powered down my babies, wished Ducky a Merry Christmas and I'm, like, _so_ excited, this is totally gonna be one of the best Christmas' ever – wait!" she said turning in a full 180 degree circle as she realised the agents were all still working at their desks. "What happened? Why are you still working? And where's Gibbs – oh no…Tony, please tell me you didn't?"

"Relax, Abs, he's with the Director. And before you ask, I hand delivered a bottle of Bourbon this year," Tony replied.

"Oh, speaking of hand delivered…" Abby rounded McGee's desk, wrapped him in a huge hug and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"Not that I mind, Abs, but what was that for?" McGee asked.

"That was for the McGee family Christmas photo you left on my desk," Abby replied, smiling sweetly. "It's so cute! I totally love that you're all wearing matching reindeer sweaters!"

McGee blushed brightly, refusing to make eye contact with Tony and settled for a diversionary tactic.

"ahh…does anyone know what Gibbs is doing for Christmas?" he asked.

"The old man doesn't do Christmas, Probie, he gets so crotchety that he makes Ebenezer Scrooge look like Clive Griswald." Tony chuckled at his own joke, stopping when he noticed the blank faces. "You know? Chevy Chase? Christmas Vacation? Come on!"

The hair standing on the back of his neck and three sets of averted eyes filled him with a sudden dread and he gulped audibly. "He's standing right behind me, isn't he?"

"Yep," Gibbs drawled before delivering a glancing head slap. "Your report better be on my desk, DiNozzo, or you'll–"

"Just printing it now, Boss," Tony said as the printer came to life.

Removing the report from the printer, he signed his name with a flourish and placed the report in the in-tray on Gibbs' desk.

The three agents and Abby talked quietly among themselves, trying hard to feign patience as Gibbs read their reports. After what seemed like an extraordinarily long ten minutes, Gibbs placed the reports in a folder and looked up at the anxious faces.

"Go home," he said satisfied with their work. "Merry Christmas."

A chorus of Christmas wishes and excited chatter followed as the forensic specialist and three agents grabbed their bags and headed for the elevators. Tony stopped mid-step and looked back at his team leader who remained seated at his desk. Not for the first time, he wondered where and how Gibbs spent his holiday. If he'd learnt anything about Gibbs over the past four years, it was that he was an intensely private man.

"Something I can help you with, DiNozzo?" he asked.

"No, Boss," Tony replied, embarrassed to be caught daydreaming. "Um…Merry Christmas."

Gibbs' eyes softened marginally. "Merry Christmas, Tony."

**000---000---000**

Tony nosed his car into the only vacant spot in front of his favourite neighbourhood delicatessen and, picking his way carefully across the snow covered sidewalk, entered the store. As he stepped through the door, he breathed in deeply the wonderful mouth watering aromas that filled the air and felt his stomach growl in anticipation.

Gino Pirelli and his wife, Carmela, had owned and operated the small Italian deli long before Tony had ever moved to DC, their delightfully warm and personal service as much a key to their success as the fine quality of their wares.

Looking up from behind the counter, the diminutive owner's face lit up in recognition and he threw his arms in the air as he came to greet the newcomer.

"Hey, Tony!" Gino smiled broadly at the younger man, "Come siete oggi il mio amico?"

"I'm well thank you, Gino, where is your lovely wife?" Tony replied laughing and looked around expectantly as a small rounded woman bustled into the store from the back room.

"Tony!" Carmela cried happily and raised both arms to clasp around Tony's neck as she rained kisses on his cheek. "Buon Natale".

"Merry Christmas to you too, Carmela," he replied beneath another onslaught of kisses. "Have the family all arrived safely?"

"Yes, they came last night and my Theresa is home from college, too. Ah Tony, you should see my Theresa now…_cosi bella donna!" _Carmela teased as she kissed her fingertips and winked slyly.

"I'm sure she is but I only have eyes for her Mamma," Tony flirted and laughed as the older woman blushed with delight.

They chatted a while longer as Gino hurried off to prepare Tony's order, all the while accepting his wife's instructions with good grace and the occasional affectionate roll of the eyes at Tony when she wasn't watching.

Finally the order was filled and with a promise to drop in for a drink before the New Year and to catch up with the family – particularly the beautiful Theresa - Tony made his farewells and headed home.

His apartment was cold when he entered and he paused to adjust the thermostat before heading to the kitchen to deposit his purchases onto the bench top. He smiled as he remembered the easy familiarity and warmth shared by Gino and Carmela and how happy their family seemed.

He sighed; theirs would be a wonderful Christmas, just as it should be.

Suddenly the afternoon's tragic events forced their way into his mind and he saw again the faces of the Donaldson's and Flannery's, their initial disbelief and denial at what had happened, followed swiftly by a heart wrenching agony.

Tony closed his eyes and breathed deeply as he considered the cruel twist that life had dealt them. For both families, Christmas would never be the same again, forever tainted by pain and sorrow.

Determined to enjoy his evening plans, he forced himself to concentrate on matters at hand and set about preparing his meal. Finally, with the dish warming in the oven, he went through to the living room and sat down to put the finishing touches on the small tree in the corner.

Satisfied with the effect, he flicked the switch and rocked back on his heels to admire his handy work as the tiny lights flickered into life and twinkled merrily from every branch.

_What was next? Meal, tree…ah yes._

He crossed the room to the entertainment unit and ran his finger down the impressive library of DVDs. Finding the one he sought; he slipped it from the shelf, flipping it over to read the short synopsis on the back cover. Excited now, he placed the disc into the player and hurried back into the kitchen just as the timer sounded signalling that his meal was ready.

He carried the meal through to the small coffee table and settled into his favourite reclining chair, lifted the remote control and pressed the play button.

On the screen a storybook opened and with every turn of the page, a wintry scene surrounded the film's credits. A snow covered sign saying "Welcome to Bedford Falls" signaled the familiar opening scene…

Tony grinned and glanced toward the window. Outside, the snow was falling heavily now, he watched - mesmerised - as the flakes drifted against the window panes and settled on the ledge.

The strident ringing of his cell snapped him out of his reverie and he reached across to answer the call.

"DiNozzo," he snapped resentfully then wondered at the silence on the other end.

"Hello?..." he tried again and was just about to hang up when a small voice replied.

"Tony? It's Ryan, Ryan Flannery".

Tony paused a moment, waiting for the boy to continue.

"I'm sorry to call you but I needed to talk…to someone, and you said I should…you know, give you a call if I needed…" he tapered off uncertainly.

"Hey, Ryan. No problem at all, that's why I gave you my card, buddy,"

"It's just that…my dad's taken my mom home, she's so upset and can't stop crying…," Tony could hear the tremor in the boys voice as he tried valiantly to complete the sentence. "I'm…I'm scared, Tony. What's gunna happen to me now?"

The pain and fear in the boy's voice was unmistakable and Tony closed his eyes for a moment as another young and terrified voice - from a few years earlier- echoed in his head.

The long awaited meal, the tree with it's shining lights and the heart warming, familiar film were forgotten as he made up his mind.

"How about I come down there and we can talk?" he suggested quietly.

"No, you can't do that, Tony!" Ryan protested. "It's not fair; you must have plans for Christmas Eve … I shouldn't have called..."

"No, I didn't have any plans, Ryan," he lied. "Sit tight, I'll be there in half an hour," he ended the call and stood up, placing his uneaten meal in the refrigerator and pulled on his coat before grabbing his car keys from the hook near the door.

As he left the apartment, he glanced toward the television and grimaced. The angels were deep in conversation from their starry abodes as they discussed how best to help poor George Bailey. He paused a moment and watched, reciting the actors lines - word for word - in his head.

But then he straightened, retraced his steps and flicked the switch, watching as the screen went black.

He turned and headed out into the night.

**000---000---000**

**Thanks so much for reading! Lyn**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

**Disclaimer and Spoilers**: This chapter contains missing scenes from S6 Silent Night as well as some actual dialogue from the episode. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** This is the final chapter in my little Christmas story. I so hope that you have enjoyed the journey and have laughed and cried in all the right places.

I have really appreciated all the support and kind reviews so warmly offered by my FF friends and wish each of you a wonderful and love filled Christmas and a safe and prosperous New Year!

**Washington D.C Christmas Eve, 2008**

Tony had parked the dark blue charger in Constitution Gardens, a reasonable distance from the Wall but close enough to afford them a good view of the Vietnam Veteran's memorial. It was quiet today, only a handful of visitors and tourists making their way along the granite memorial.

If Ducky was right, they'd easily spot Ned Quinn if he decided to pay his respects to his fallen comrade.

In silence, he and Ziva waited, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Tony reflected on the recent events, particularly yesterday's disconcerting arrival in the bullpen by Metro Detective Justin Kemp. Talk about your blast from the past.

He'd never liked the man, too sure of himself, too smug for his own good. The fact that he'd married Tony's ex and stood to inherit a massive fortune - via his wife – had nothing to do with it, of course. Well…maybe just a little?

No, it was more that as a cop, Kemp had a track record for being too willing to accept things at face value, take the easy route and disregard anything that didn't quite…add up.

He wondered what his life would have been like had his relationship with Kemp's wife lasted. Would he have remained on the police force like Kemp? Would he have joined NCIS? Or would he have accepted some cushy executive position in one of his father-in-law's many corporations and spent his days gracing boardrooms and eating expensive power lunches?

An involuntary shiver ran down his back at the thought and he grimaced. If he'd wanted that existence he would have joined his father's business years ago.

He thought about the Taylors found murdered yesterday morning and wondered what it was about the festive season that seemed to invite so much family tragedy? Wasn't it supposed to be a time for peace on earth and goodwill to all men?

Tony shook his head slightly in denial. If he lived to be a hundred he would never understand it.

"He does not dress like a cop," Ziva said quietly, as though aware of where his thoughts had been.

"Who?" Tony feigned disinterest as he stared out the side window.

"Your Detective Kemp," she replied.

"You are…a little fascinated by him," Tony decided to try a diversion.

Not to be put off, Ziva ignored his comment.

"He come from money?"

"Married it…," he snapped. "We're missing the office Christmas party," still he refused to turn around and stared out the window at the Wall.

"That could have been you. What's her name?"

"Guy in the blue hoodie, go check him out," he was _not_ having this conversation with her.

Ziva lifted the binoculars to her eyes for a moment as she zoomed in on the object of Tony's attention and replied.

"Ah, too young, too fat, too female. Answer my question…is she pretty?"

He sighed. "Gorgeous," he admitted. "She was perfect ok? Witty…smart. That was twelve years ago, she's had kids. God knows what she looks like now".

Ziva hesitated, wanting to ask but uncertain how to go on.

"So…what happened? Do you ever regret… not having a wife…and kids, especially during this time of year. Hanukkah's all about family…is it not the same at Christmas?"

Jeanne's laughing eyes and wide smile flashed into his mind and he felt something cold unfurl in his gut.

He'd had enough. Tony reached for the handle and opened the car door.

"I'm gunna go check out the guy in the hoodie," he climbed out without a backward glance, hoping that his partner would take the hint and stay in the car.

"It is a woman," Ziva cried to his retreating back.

000---000---000

Hours later, Quinn was in custody, the prime suspect in the murder of Avery Taylor and his wife but Gibbs' famous gut was working overtime with a gnawing suspicion that they'd arrested the wrong man.

They'd learned that eighteen years ago, suffering the indescribable torments of war and wracked by a drug addiction, Ned Quinn had decided that his family were better off without him and so he'd faked his own death. If that was a crime then he was certainly guilty but he insisted that he had not murdered the Taylors.

In fact, he said that he'd tried to save Mrs. Taylor by applying CPR and the findings of Ducky's forensic examination certainly supported that claim.

It didn't add up and the former Marine Gunny was convinced that the corpsman, was telling the truth, that he was innocent and that the real killer was still at large and, having bought some time before handing Quinn over to Metro, the lead agent was determined to clear the veteran's name.

When Gibbs swept into the bullpen and announced that they'd be working around the clock to solve the case, Tony couldn't hide his groan of disappointment. He'd been looking forward to his traditional Christmas Eve. Over the years it had lost it's sadness and had become a time for him to reflect and be grateful for the highpoints in his life.

But disappointment quickly turned to a guilty pleasure as he realised that, for the first time, he may actually get to spend the holiday with his team whose own plans had been delayed, if not ruined.

An idea began to form in his head and he smiled, when he went out later that evening to check a lead, he made a small detour and swung by his apartment.

**000---000---000**

**2030hrs Christmas Night**

By Christmas evening they'd finally solved the mystery; the Taylor's home security guard had been taken into custody by Metro Police and charged with their murder. A relieved Ned Quinn had been cleared and released, Tony and McGee were putting the final touches on their reports and Ziva was bemoaning the loss of her Christmas plans to a concerned Abby who gave her a sympathetic smile.

"I've met your neighbours, Ziva, they are totally cool, I'm sure they understand why you couldn't join them tonight."

"I hope so, Abby," Ziva sighed. "I must admit that I am quite disappointed, I was looking forward to experiencing my very first traditional American Christmas dinner."

"If you want tradition, you just have to spend Christmas with me next year!" Abby enthused with her eyes shining brightly. "My extended family is coming up from Louisiana and we'll be celebrating Christmas, New Orleans style!"

"I did not know that New Orleans has its own Christmas traditions," Ziva replied.

"Oh yeah! First we place hundreds of tiny fairy lights in the giant oak tree out the back, to symbolise the Celebration in the Oaks at City Park. When the lights come on, it looks just like a magical fairyland," Abby explained. "Then we build a huge bonfire, just like they do on the levees in New Orleans to help Rudolph lead Santa, or Pere Noel as he's known in the French Quarter, into the bayou."

"It sounds wonderful, Abby," Ziva smiled.

"Oh, it totally is! Except… for that one time when Uncle Larry built the bonfire too close to the oak tree, which caught fire and spread to our neighbours garage and woodshed before the firemen gained control and extinguished the flames."

"My goodness! Was anyone hurt?"

"Oh no…unless you count my cousin Millie who sprained her wrist trying to avoid the stampeding ox," Abby admitted.

"There was a stampeding ox at your Christmas dinner?" Ziva asked incredulously.

"Of course!" Abby replied like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Well…to be fair, the ox didn't stampede until it was startled by the sirens on the fire engines."

"Abby, I do not understand. Why was there an ox at your Christmas dinner?"

"Oh, that's a tradition, too! The ox is decorated in holly and ribbons and paraded to signify the true Christmas spirit."

"Cos nothing says Christmas like a runaway bull," Tony quipped. "Actually, Abby, I think that's more symbolic of the post Christmas sales."

McGee snapped his cell closed with a frustrated sigh.

"Your parents are not happy that you are still working, McGee?" Ziva asked.

"Not happy is an understatement," McGee replied. "They've been waiting dinner hoping I'd make it home. Now the turkey's dried out, the gravy's congealed, the pudding is cold and the brandy custard is curdled. I feel like I ruined their Christmas!"

"No, Timmy, no…not ruined, just delayed!" Abby consoled with a comforting arm around his shoulders.

"Working Christmas night sucks!" McGee bemoaned.

"Eloquently put, McGemcity!" Tony chirped. "Look at the bright side, there'll be toasted turkey sandwiches, a reindeer sweater and Alvin, Simon and Theodore waiting to serenade you at breakfast."

"It's not the same," McGee said. "I love Christmas night with my family, we have long standing traditions that we look forward to every year!"

"We all have our traditions, Probie," Tony said, "But these things happen, you've just gotta learn to make the most of the situation."

"Really Tony?" McGee replied sceptically. "You have a Christmas tradition?"

"Well, tell you what, Probie. Now that we've solved the case and Ned Quinn has been exonerated - not to mention - soon to be officially reanimated…" Tony slipped the DVD from his desk drawer and waved it at McGee. "Why don't you all meet me in MTAC and I'll show you how the DiNozzo's celebrate Christmas?"

**000---000---000**

When Tony entered MTAC a short time later, carrying a large bowl of caramel popcorn, he couldn't resist dragging his feet along the carpet so that he could discharge the static electricity on an unwitting McGee.

"Would you stop that? I'm still humming from the tazor," McGee complained as he flinched uncomfortably.

Tony grinned, these small delights really did make his day and he wondered if he'd ever grow tired of them.

He walked to the large screen and turned to see his friends sitting together, expectant looks on their faces.

Ducky was fussing in his chair, Abby almost jumping out of her skin in anticipation and Ziva gazed in delightful wonderment at the frosted cotton ball bouquet that Abby had made for her.

Despite the charming smile on his face, his insides clenched with trepidation.

Although he was known for spouting cinematic trivia and for always having a movie reference to suit every situation, he'd _never_ before mentioned this film to his friends. It just meant too much to be trivialised, to take it's place in the long list of wisecracks and verbal 'slights of hand' that he used as a shield when something was just too painful to meet head on.

It would have been too revealing, too personal.

It was part of him.

A part that he was finally ready to share with the team, his very special Christmas gift to them all.

Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and spoke in a raised voice that demanded their attention.

"Ladies and Gentlemen…tonight…you're all gunna share in a DiNozzo family tradition….caramel popcorn, hot malt cider and the greatest, GREATEST Christmas movie of all time…IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE!"

The little group broke into spontaneous applause and smiles lit every face as Tony nodded to McGee to start and took his seat in the back row.

"Oh, we can't start until Gibbs gets here…," Abby cried and Tony looked around in consternation as he realised that the Boss was nowhere to be seen.

"Oh, he said not to wait," Ziva explained.

"Where is he?" asked Ducky but soon forgot to worry as the credits started to roll.

A storybook opened and with every turn of the page, a wintry scene surrounded the film's credits. A snow covered sign saying "Welcome to Bedford Falls" signaled the familiar opening scene.

Tony's earlier enthusiasm dimmed as the realisation sunk in that _Gibbs_ – of all people - was not there.

Where could he be?

He knew that Christmas was a tough time for the Boss, yet another person for whom the Season of Joy was anything but.

He'd also noticed that extra edge, barely perceptible but years of working with the former Marine had taught him to recognise the almost fevered intensity that sometimes motivated the lead agent to find the truth.

This case…Ned Quinn and his own family tragedy had struck a nerve with Gibbs and nothing would prevent him from making it right.

Tony pulled the cell phone from his pocket and pressed the speed dial, but the call went straight to voicemail. With a wry smile, he cancelled the call, not bothering to leave a message.

He pocketed the cell phone and turned his attention to his companions, slowly searching each of their faces to gauge their reactions. After 48 long hours of exhaustive investigation, he'd expected to see sleepy disinterest but the classic film had already begun to weave it's magical spell. With one last look at their rapt expressions, he turned to watch the film, a huge DiNozzo smile on his face.

000---000---000

**Epilogue**

**2345 hrs December 25th 2008**

Slowing to a crawl, Tony carefully nosed his car into the space provided in the underground parking garage and killed the engine. Twisting around, he stretched one arm over and snatched up the small black backpack that lay on the rear seat. Slinging it over his shoulder, he grabbed the flat pizza box off the passenger seat and climbed out of the car. It was a far cry from the Christmas dinner he had planned but, given the hour, it would just have to do.

As he straightened up, the lights of another vehicle entering the garage caught him full in the face, he waved a casual hand at the driver as the car pulled slowly into the allotted visitor's space just near the entrance. Looks like Jill in apartment 3B had sorted out the problems with her boyfriend, after all.

The elevator whirred quietly as it slowly rose through four floors and came to a stop with a slight bump as it reached Tony's floor. He swapped the pizza to his other hand so that he could insert the key and open the front door then depositing the box on the small table, made his way into his bedroom and dropped the bag onto the bed.

Removing his Sig from his belt, he tucked it inside his bedside drawer, toed off his shoes and exchanged his jacket, pants and shirt for sweats and old sneakers. Strolling back in, he rummaged down the side of the leather couch for the remote and finding it, flicked on his prized flat screen TV to catch the late news.

In the corner near the window, sat his small, bare Christmas tree, the box of baubles and tinsel on the floor where he'd left them two days ago. He wondered if he should decorate it then hesitated, there were just a few minutes of Christmas left and it hardly seemed worth the effort.

A knock on the door startled him and he checked his watch, who could be calling at this hour?

Silently he crept to the door and peered through the spy hole at the silver haired man staring back at him.

Gibbs.

Hurriedly he flicked the locks and swung the door wide.

"Boss! Where'd you go earlier? I was trying to call you".

Gibbs stepped across the threshold and closed the door behind him.

"Had something to take care of," he replied as he quickly eyed the small apartment, his attention caught by the pizza sitting untouched on the small table.

"You were missed," Tony ventured without making eye contact.

Gibbs frowned slightly and pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"Spoke to Jack".

"Yeah? How is he?" Tony asked with genuine interest in his voice. He'd really hit it off with the elder Gibbs during his brief visit to Stillwater. That is, when the Boss had given him half a chance.

"Got a large turkey and needs some help to eat it,"

Tony looks at Gibbs…his brow furrowed; not sure exactly what he was saying.

"Boss?"

"Get your bag, we're going to Stillwater," Gibbs instructed gruffly.

"Really?" Tony asked with dawning excitement.

"Yeah, really. Course if you'd rather not…" Gibbs made to move toward the door.

Before he could take a step, Tony had raced to his room to pack an overnight bag, popping back out a moment later, a look of concern etched on his brow.

"Um Boss?"

"DiNozzo?"

"Should I wear the sweater, Boss?"

Gibbs smiled ruefully and shook his head.

"Hell DiNozzo, you can wear an elf suit if it makes you feel better".

While he waited for Tony to grab his gear, Gibbs swiped a slice of pizza and walked around the familiar apartment, noting that Tony had moved the furniture around since his last visit.

_No doubt to make room for that ridiculously large television that straddled the far wall, _he thought with a smile.

As he reached for another slice of pizza, he noticed the small tree standing bare in the corner, the box of decorations on the floor nearby and the conspicuous lack of gifts underneath.

"Aw DiNozzo," he breathed, a small pang of guilt twisting his insides. He reached a hand into his pocket and felt for the small package that he'd wrapped earlier.

"I'm ready, Boss!" Tony panted as he burst back into the room.

"Good, let's go then," Gibbs replied and collecting the pizza box, he headed for the door.

Tony slung his bag over his shoulder and began to follow when he stopped abruptly.

"Um, I'll meet you at the car, Boss," he called to Gibbs' retreating back. "I forgot something".

Turning, he raced back into the apartment and into his bedroom where he upended his backpack onto his bed. The DVD fell out on top and he snatched it up and tucked it into his coat pocket. He was sure he could interest Jack into watching the film with him…and with a bit of luck, Gibbs would join them.

As he dragged his front door closed and turned the key in the lock, he couldn't suppress the huge beaming smile that lit his face.

It really was a wonderful life!

**000---000---000**

My thanks to all who read and reviewed.

I couldn't resist the 'aw shucks' finish…really hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
